WaT No Fairy Tale This
by Mariel3
Summary: Can there be an 'And they all lived happily ever after? JS
1. Chapter 1

**No Fairy Tale, This**  
By: Mariel

Chapter 1:_ Where They Are..._

Jack grimaced. Samantha sat across from him at one of the lunchroom tables, staring at a cup of cold coffee held tightly between her hands. She looked fine, and the rational part of his brain told him she was all right. Still, he couldn't get rid of the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he'd had since hearing gunshots echo loudly in the old warehouse they'd been investigating.

Voice desperate, he'd called her name into the darkness.

"_Samantha_!"

It had taken her only a heartbeat to answer, but during that heartbeat he had died a hundred deaths.

They weren't supposed to walk into these situations, he told himself. They looked for the lost, not the criminal... but when the former was also the latter, and events occurred quickly, things happened.

Things like what had happened tonight.

Samantha could have been killed, and the baby-

He stopped his thoughts abruptly and forced himself to calm down. She hadn't almost been killed. The man she'd shot hadn't even fired his weapon. But he could have, and that had been enough to send unwanted tremors of fear down his spine.

The fact that she had fired and the man she'd shot _hadn't_ was something that would also need to be talked about, and an investigation would be started immediately. He knew all too well the psychological impact these sorts of investigations had on any agent - they seemed designed to make the person on the right side of the law feel in the wrong - and right now, Samantha didn't need the added pressure. He cursed silently, knowing that if Samantha had waited for backup before going in, or at least waited until the man had fired first, the resulting aftermath wouldn't have been half so painful as he now knew it was going to be.

Sighing, he looked at his watch. The guy from Internal Affairs probably wouldn't arrive for another twenty minutes. Thinking about the time jogged his memory, and he frowned. Maria was taking the girls to California for a week. He'd promised to phone them one more time before they left Chicago.

Pushing his chair back, he rose and looked down at Samantha. "I gotta make a phone call," he said abruptly.

Something flickered in Samantha's eyes, but she only nodded and said, "Okay."

Aware of Samantha's subtle withdrawal at his words, Jack cursed himself inwardly for the feelings it created in him. There was no need for him to explain his actions, he told himself firmly. Or maybe the problem was he didn't know _how _to explain himself. Not without making himself sound guilty. He knew there was no reason for him to feel that emotion, knew there was nothing to stop him from saying, 'I need to call my girls,' and yet...explanations now made him uncomfortable. There'd been a time he hadn't needed to explain himself or defend his actions. There'd been a time he'd known she trusted him, believed in him, accepted what he said as truth. That was all changed now. Expecting she wouldn't believe anything he told her anyway, he opted for silence.

_Anne's the lie that caused this _his conscience told him. He paused, then admitted inwardly that his silence about his relationship with his best friend's widow had been _worse_ than a lie.

It had taken him a long time to realise it, though.

_Too long._

He looked at Samantha and tried to keep his regret from showing. So much had passed between them that he wasn't certain how to get back to any sort of comfortable footing with her, and each passing day made it seem even more impossible. Now, there wasn't time for personal issues even if they'd wanted to deal with them. Tonight's shooting put her in serious trouble with their bosses and would require their complete concentration for days to come. Shit was going to hit the proverbial fan over this, and he was worried about the outcome, worried her career might not weather this inquiry. Realising he was staring, he turned his head away, not knowing how to let her know she had his support, no matter what.

Sighing, he looked towards the door. Not knowing what to do or say anymore when it came to Samantha bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Their affair was long over and his head understood that; but somewhere between their affair's end and now, they'd forgotten how to be at ease with one another, how to talk to one another, how to work with one another.

He hadn't, however, forgotten how to love her.

A shot fired into the darkness had brought that home to him, in horrible and frightening detail. Loving her was like blinking, or breathing, or having a heartbeat, and like any other involuntary response, it was a critical, fundamental part of him he had no control over.

He did, however, have control over allowing his feelings to show, and he'd resolved never to let her know. She was burdened with enough right now. The last thing she needed was for him to complicate her life still more.

"I'll be right back," he said.

Looking tired and uncertain, she nodded. He turned to move away, but halted when she said in a small voice, "This might have been my last chance, Jack."

He turned and looked at her. As always, he was struck by a strong desire to hold her, to take her with him back to the time when they were honest with one another, relied on one another. But he couldn't, and so he concentrated on alleviating her fear. Although he'd already considered what she'd just voiced, he couldn't let _her_ think negatively.

"Bullshit," he scoffed bluntly. "You had good reason to fire."

"But they might not see it that way. After all the other times..." Her voice drifted off.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "You're a good agent. You used your best judgment. And it looks as though he's going to pull through. That's in your favour."

Her face took on the expression she'd had when he'd first found her standing over the prone figure of Steve Hutkins. "I wish I could feel better about that," she said cryptically.

"Yeah, well..." Jack said, his voice drifting off. They hadn't spoken yet of what, exactly, had happened before he'd arrived at the scene after the shooting. He thought maybe he could guess, but knew her reasons for not telling him involved preventing him from becoming an accessory. The thought made his stomach sink.

Sighing, she abruptly changed her tone and urged him, "Go make your phone call; I'm okay."

She wondered if he were calling Anne; if perhaps they were communicating again. Time had passed, and Jack had never told anyone what had actually happened between the two of them to cause their split. After the mind-blowing news that Anne was pregnant, he had fallen silent. The team had discovered only by accident that Anne had left and the pregnancy was no more. No one had dared venture discussing any of it with him.

Jack looked at her uncertainly, not sure at all that she was as 'okay' as she claimed. Her quietly announced pregnancy, the adjustments he knew she was going to have to make as the pregnancy proceeded... He blinked, realising once again he'd drifted off into thought while staring at her. Inhaling deeply, he nodded and turned towards the door.

Fifteen minutes later, his phone call finished, he returned to find Samantha talking to someone with an FBI badge. Quickly taking note of the man's age, he set aside the idea that he was from Internal Affairs, arrived early. The young man's smooth, unlined face and freshly-washed appearance gave him an air of innocence, of being too young and inexperienced to have ever had the responsibility of investigating something more serious than the improper use of a bath toy.

Sensing the older man's arrival, the fair-haired agent glanced up and then stood. "Special Agent Malone, it's a pleasure to meet you, sir," he said, holding his hand out respectfully.

Surprised by the cordial greeting, Jack took the younger man's hand.

Looking directly into the agent's cool blue eyes he asked, "And you are?"

"Agent Simon Goddard, Internal Affairs," the man replied. "I'm here to deal with the red flag thrown up by Agent Spade's latest shooting."

Jack's eyebrows rose, then lowered as he tried to cover his surprise. He wasn't pleased with himself for dismissing the agent so easily, and found himself even more unhappy with the way the other agent had worded his comment.

_Latest_ shooting?

Aloud, he asked, "Red flag?"

Goddard nodded. "Yes, sir. It's not just this shooting that will be under review. The Department is finding Agent Spade's pattern of behaviour worrisome. Simply put, she's fired that weapon of hers too often. She's well over the acceptable average for Missing Persons. We need to know why."

Samantha made as though to speak, then forced herself to relax and hold her peace.

Goddard noticed, however. Looking at her directly, he said, "Look, I'm sorry, but whether you like hearing it or not, you're trigger-happy. You fire your sidearm more frequently than anyone else in your department. Hell, you pull the trigger more often than anyone in Missing Persons on the entire eastern seaboard! That makes people question your motivation. You weren't hired as a gunslinger, Agent Spade. Your attitude of 'shoot first and ask questions later' could get the Department into serious trouble. You're a concern. I'm here to make sure you don't become a liability."

Sending a warning glance Jack's way that told him very plainly to keep his mouth shut about _everything_, Samantha said, "I was justified in shooting; he'd have gotten away. I identified myself. I gave the standard warning. When he didn't respond and began to move away, I fired my gun. Not to kill; to stop him. I succeeded. Case closed." She'd be damned if she'd throw in the 'I'm pregnant; feel sorry for me' card.

Goddard shook his head. Showing more confidence than one would expect for someone his age, he said, "No, it's not 'case closed'. Did you really need to fire? Are you saying you didn't trust your backup? And what really made you pull the trigger? Fear? Bravery? A sense of power? Do you see yourself as some sort of vigilante, Agent Spade, freeing the world of one less bad guy? Whichever one is the case, it's my job to find it and act accordingly."

"I notice that 'Doing my job and doing it well' isn't on that list of possibilities," she observed hotly.

"I've read the preliminary reports," he said comfortably. "I've got a pretty good idea of what went down, and why."

Samantha shook her head. "You have no idea. You can't. You weren't there. And do you even know who he is? Do you know what he did?"

"I know who he is and I know what he's been _accused_ of doing. He hasn't been convicted of anything, and attitudes like yours are of concern to the Department. It's not your place to decide who's guilty and who's innocent, Agent Spade. Nor is it your responsibility to mete out justice. Your responsibility - your _only_ responsibility - is to find the missing. There's nothing in your job description that says 'shoot at will'."

Having heard more than enough, Jack intervened. His voice low and holding more than a hint of warning, he said, "Agent Goddard! That's enough. Investigate all you like, but be careful about making unfounded accusations or subtle threats."

Goddard stepped back, but didn't apologise. "You have her firearm?"

Jack shook his head and waited for the satisfaction of seeing Goddard open his mouth in protest before offering, "I followed protocol. Ballistics has it."

Samantha had handed the weapon over to him numbly, her eyes trained on Sparks, who now lay on his back, his eyes closed. Jack had moved him, turning him over to check for his pulse as soon as he'd arrived.

From the strength of the pulse and the location of the entry wound, Jack had guessed there was a chance Steven Hutkins would live.

Jack, however, had felt a shiver go through him when Samantha turned dark eyes to meet his. Hidden in their ebony depths he had seen that, more than anything else, Samantha Spade wished Steven Hutkins dead.

End  
Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the welcome back, folks! It was really appreciated. I was in such a hurry to get the first chapter up and posted that I forgot about the forward. This time, I'm remembering...so thank you to Diane, whose eagle eyes have patiently gone through every version but the final one to find errors. It means there are fewer mistakes than you'd find normally...and that those you do find are all mine!

What the writers have done to these characters has made it very difficult for me to write them. What possible future could there be for J/S after all that's been done? This story, I guess, is my answer. Thanks for reading.

* * *

**No Fairy Tale, This**  
By: Mariel

Chapter 2: _  
Where They Were  
Part I_

_Three months ago  
_

Their morning cups of coffee just poured and their behinds barely settled into their seats at the bullpen table, everyone turned as Jack walked briskly into the area and went straight to the white board.

"This," he said as he posted an eight-by-ten picture of a young, blond woman, "is Tammy Star. Lives at 2435 Chester Street in the Bronx. She was reported missing by an Anthony Sparks. Mr. Sparks claims to be her boyfriend, but unfortunately doesn't appear to know much about her. He _thinks_ she's about eighteen years old. He _thinks_ she comes from Texas originally. And, in spite of his _great_ affection for her, he appears," Jack said, "to have no objection to her turning tricks to help make ends meet, because he says he _thinks_ she may have been prostituting herself to help pay the rent." Resuming his description, he continued, "She's been gone five days, and he's worried a john may have abducted or harmed her." There was an element of impatience in the way Jack spoke, and the others noticed, but did not comment. He'd been unusually testy the past couple of weeks, and everyone was pretty sure it was over something personal. They had learned, however, not to comment or question.

"Five days, and he's just reporting her missing now?" Danny asked. "He doesn't sound very concerned to me."

Samantha looked at the calendar on the wall, then at him. "It's almost the end of the month," she observed.

Martin frowned, then his face cleared as understanding dawned. "Rent will be due," he muttered. "What a prince. Needs to know what to do about the apartment."

Vivian looked at Jack curiously. "This doesn't sound like something we usually get involved in. If she's young and has been hooking to make ends meet, she may have simply decided to go back home."

Jack nodded. "Perhaps, but the police are having trouble tracking down where 'home' is, and they say it appears most of her things are still in the apartment." He paused for the briefest second, then continued, "And to be honest, I'm more interested in the fact Anthony Sparks has called in a missing persons report similar to this before. The story then was almost identical to the one he's telling now."

Danny's eyes widened, and he moved forward slightly - an indication, Jack knew, that his interest was finally piqued. The dark-haired agent shook his head. "He's either phenomenally unlucky in love or he's really stupid."

Still in a foul mood over his latest argument with Anne, Jack felt himself slowly being drawn out of it by the case. Welcoming the distraction, he moved closer to the table and replied, "I'm leaning towards really stupid, but maybe not, since he's still out on the street. I checked, and nothing ever linked him to the disappearance of the other girlfriend. He had an airtight alibi, and nothing could shake it."

"Then why am I getting the feeling they're dead, and not missing?" Elena asked in a clipped, skeptical tone.

Sitting back in her chair, Samantha watched the people gathered around the table interact. She looked at Jack in particular, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the tenseness in his posture. Something was up with him, and had been for a while now. She frowned, sure that life with Anne was meeting with difficulties. Resolutely turning her thoughts from problems that were none of her business, she addressed the case, commenting, "If they were murdered, this isn't our case. We don't investigate suspected murders."

Jack's face gave nothing away as he responded. "The women are missing, and we've been asked to find them," he said flatly. "NYPD believes they're probably dead, but is having no luck with Sparks as a suspect. With no body, it won't be long before they're going to have to stop using resources on this case and move on to something else. The hope is that we find something by going at things from a different angle. For the record, we aren't interested in Anthony Sparks, we're interested in Tammy Star. If we're lucky, it'll be like Vivian said, and Tammy smartened up and headed for home. Maybe the same went for the other woman, too - he does seem to like them on the young side. If that's not the case, however, maybe we'll uncover something NYPD didn't." Picking up a few files he'd brought with him, he continued, "We've still got the Everson case to work on, so I'm dividing things up. Samantha, I want you to take a look into finding out who the heck Tammy Starr is and where she came from. Once you've laid the groundwork and have a profile of some sort, come and see me. The rest of you I want to continue following up on what you were working on yesterday. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me." The work delegated, Jack nodded and returned to his office.

The others looked at one another silently, then rose wordlessly to go about their work. This wasn't the first time Jack had removed himself from direct involvement in a case, but it was something he was doing more and more frequently. Each of them wondered what the reason was, and each had their own theory as to why. No one, however was about to ask in order to find out for sure.

_-xxx- _

_Six weeks ago_

"This is Anthony Sparks, age 35, of 2987 Welland Avenue, near 4th. Last seen by his 'friend', Angel Smith, three days ago. He dropped by her place of employment - which is, apparently, on the corner of 3rd and 45th Street - and 'borrowed' some money from her. He said he'd see her that evening, and hasn't been heard from since."

When he'd finished speaking, Jack turned from the white board, where he'd just put up an eight-by-ten picture of a dark-haired Caucasian man with penetrating grey eyes and heavy eyebrows.

Martin frowned. "Anthony Sparks," he said, obviously running the name through his memory. Turning to Samantha, he said, "He's the one with two missing girlfriends, right?"

Jack spoke before Samantha could reply.

"That's right; and now he's missing, too." Looking at Samantha, he said, "It looks like it's time to meet his not-so-nice and incredibly elusive friends once again, and see if we can find out where he went."

Samantha shook her head. "Don't expect much. I've already spoken to a few of them about Tammy Star; they're very tight-lipped about just about everything."

"Perhaps we haven't used the right approach," Danny said cryptically.

Jack sent Danny a glance, then said, "We'll do the usual. Something's obviously up. Samantha discovered he's involved in about every petty crime out there - blackmail, money laundering, gambling fraud, pimping...he's a real charmer."

Elena sighed and rolled her eyes. "There are so many."

Samantha smiled grimly. "And on this case, you'll meet even more, trust me." Turning to Jack, she said, "You want me to go have another talk with some of his friends?"

Jack nodded. There were times he didn't care for her ability to know his thoughts, but today he was too focussed to notice. "Yes, please. Take Elena with you. Martin, there's a business partner, a Steven Hutkins, I'd like you to find, and then take a look at his family, and neighbours at both present and past addresses. Danny, I want you to take a look at his credit cards and telephone use, then help Martin with the residence thing." Turning to Vivian, he said, "I'm going to ask you to take over the lead on the McKinley case. There's still new information coming in, and I'm developing a theory. Come back to my office and I'll give you the latest."

Elena paused. "Perhaps we should ask legal if there's been-"

Breaking into her suggestion, Jack said abruptly, "Ask them whatever you need to. Nolan Dunkirk's the name to ask for. He'll get you the information you need."

Her eyebrows rose at the unfamiliar name. "Nolan Dunkirk?"

Jack nodded. "Yes. Anne has transferred out of the New York office."

Everyone around the table stiffened and kept their eyes trained on whatever they had been looking at when he'd spoken. No one moved or said anything for what seemed like a very long time. When it became obvious Jack was not going to add anything to his bombshell, Elena nodded, then in a careful tone said, "Okaaay... Thanks. I'll do that and then we'll head out to talk to his friends."

Not looking at any of them, Jack picked up his papers, turned, and left.

Once Jack was out of earshot, Danny shook his head and looked at Elena. "What the hell?" he asked.

"Whatever happened to the grapevine?" Elena asked. "Shouldn't we have known about that?"

Samantha, who knew about Anne's pregnancy but didn't know what to say about the news she had gone, said nothing. That the two hadn't been getting along perfectly was well known, but for Anne to have packed up and left? Whatever had happened between her and Jack had happened big.

Vivian turned questioning eyes to meet Samantha's, but she, too, remained silent.

Having little patience with Jack's love life or speculation thereon - but not surprised the man had frakked it up again - Martin said curtly, "Let's get to work."

_XXX _

_Four Weeks Ago_

It was late, and they were tired and almost ready to go home. Outside Jack's office, the cleaners had done their run through and left the floor in muted darkness, the occasional desk light left on here and there for illumination.

"I don't think he's missing; I think he's just lying low for a while. He was in a pile of trouble," Samantha said. Standing in front of Jack's desk and talking about her progress on the Anthony Sparks case, she twisted her hair into a loose ponytail. When she was finished both her comment and putting her hair up, she found him gazing at her intently, a look in his eyes she couldn't interpret.

Realising he'd been caught staring, Jack grunted and quickly looked away. There were things he wanted to tell her; things she deserved to know - or at least things he felt she deserved to know, though he couldn't have explained why. Still, the words were difficult to voice, and he had thus far avoided speaking them. Sometimes, he thought, it was better to just let things lie...

"Hard not to be," he finally said, "with the stuff he was in. How'd he think he could get away with skimming off everyone? There are people you just don't mess with, and he was involved with at least a dozen of them. What was he thinking?"

Samantha shook her head tiredly. "Who knows? But he's stayed alive this long. And lived well, too. I can't believe he'd let his 'girlfriends' live in the dives they did while he owned a nice three bedroom with a view of the river in Jersey."

Jack shrugged."They weren't girlfriends; they were just women he used and pimped out. You already knew he was a slime ball. Which is why I think it's time we handed this back to NYPD. I'm not feeling comfortable with us taking it any further. This isn't a simple missing persons - it's gone far beyond that. He's involved with some pretty powerful, nasty people."

Samantha's eyebrows rose. "That's usually what keeps you interested."

It was true, but Samantha had taken the bit in her teeth with this case, and it was making him increasingly uncomfortable. She identified with young females in trouble, and this case had involved two of them. In exploring their disappearances, they'd learned a lot about the man involved in both their lives, and it was obvious Samantha didn't like him. When he had gone missing, she'd insisted she take on the case. Reluctantly, he'd agreed. The feelings of unease wouldn't go away, though. The criminal element wasn't predictable, and this case had gone from one unpredictable event to another. Considering what she'd told him only two nights ago, he thought more precaution was necessary. She had not only herself to look after, but an unborn baby, as well. He-

"Jack?"

Samantha's voice interrupted his thoughts. Looking at her, he shrugged and tried to keep his inner worry from her. "I just think it's time we hung it up. It's been two weeks, and we've got nothing. I don't mind doing NYPD favours, because I know they'll be returned, but..." he allowed his voice to trail off as his eyes drifted away from hers and sought refuge in the papers on his desk.

Knowing exactly what Jack Malone was doing, Samantha regarded him steadily, daring him to push this too far. She'd only just told him about her pregnancy, was still in her first trimester, and already he was trying to wrap her in cotton wool. "Give me another day or two, Jack," she insisted. She lifted her hand and put the tips of her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "I'm this far from tracking down his silent partner. I know he exists - or I'm pretty sure, anyway. No one wants to talk, but someone will eventually."

Jack had no doubt but what someone would, but he was also pretty sure it wouldn't help anything. Still, he understood her unspoken warning, and nodded. She'd scream bloody murder if she thought he was giving her special treatment when she didn't need it. "Okay. Forty-eight hours, then, that's it." Rising, he said, "We should get out of here. I need to pick up something to eat before going home." Looking sideways at her, he casually asked, "You hungry? We could grab something at _Carmen's._"

When Samantha turned towards him, a frown creased her brow and her expression revealed both surprise at the suggestion and an uncertainty over how to respond. Both reactions were understandable. After Maria had left, things hadn't been great between them, and_ nothing _had been right between them since the Anne debacle. The discord was subtle; there was no outright warfare, no quiet digs or untoward comments, but there was still something not right, still a discord that made him regret the absence of what they'd had. He understood Samantha's distaste for the way he'd treated her. He had no real explanation for it, other than fear and temporary madness - but he longed to get back onto a decent footing. The fact he wanted more than that was buried deeply in his psyche, and he avoided acknowledgment of it at all costs. There'd been too many mistakes, too many missed opportunities to do the right thing...And now, with the baby and his not knowing what the hell was going on there, he knew he needed to bury his feelings and move on. If there'd been one thing his failed relationship with Anne had taught him, it was that sometimes moving on is the best thing you can do.

When silence stretched out between them to unbearable limits, he shuffled his feet and said, "Look, I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry. It's just that-"

Forcing herself to be reasonable, she broke into his words. "No, that's all right. I was just thinking about how much I have to do at home," she lied. More than anything, she wanted to go with him, but he'd hurt her badly, and she'd reacted foolishly, which had led to hurting another person. She didn't want to put herself even remotely in the position of going through anything like that again. He was capable of dealing out far more hurt than she could bear to handle. After fighting so hard to reach the equilibrium she now felt, she had to remain wary about any attempts to alter it.

And, she admitted to herself, she was embarrassed. Embarrassed that she was pregnant with no real excuse other than stupidity. Pregnant and without a responsible man in the picture to help with the responsibility. Pregnant and scared. Pregnant and-

She clamped down on her errant thoughts firmly.

"I think I'd better go straight home," she finally said. "I'm not that hungry, and there are things I have to do."

Jack nodded, guessing she was likely meeting someone. He'd heard the joking comments from Danny and Martin about a guy she was seeing. Samantha remained close-mouthed about the whole thing, but he wondered if, since she was being so private about it, maybe this time around it was serious. The father of her baby.

The thought scared him more than he wanted to admit.

Turning, she walked to the door and opened it. Looking across the room at him, she hesitated. "Thanks for the invite, though," she said in a quiet tone. "It would have been nice." She smiled and then, in a manner he was more accustomed to, added, "Stupid, but nice. See you tomorrow Jack."

With that, she was gone.

Though he could never have explained why, Jack held the '_Stupid, but nice_," to his heart all the way home.

End  
Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

**No Fairy Take, This**  
By: Mariel

Chapter 3:_ Where They Were Part II_**  
**

_Still four weeks ago..._

The following morning, Jack was still pondering Samantha's "_Stupid, but nice_," comment. He'd experienced a few moments of hope for some sort of reconciliation while doing so, but had ultimately endured far more moments of despair. To make matters worse, Samantha had arrived at work appearing calm and collected, and he found himself wondering what she had done after she'd refused dinner with him and gone home. Had she been with her baby's father? Where had they gone? What had they done?

What had she meant by her comment?

And why, he wondered, was he obsessing over it?

His fist slowly tightened. Doors had been closed. Firmly. With logical and purposeful intent. So why did he feel the need to look for a key to reopen them? _Why did he dare hope one existed?_

Sighing, he looked at the paper he'd just signed, trying to recall what it had been about. Scowling at his lack of concentration, he set about reading it from the beginning all over again.

An hour later, Samantha tapped lightly on the door and walked in.

"Sparks' business associate is back in town," she said when he looked up at her. "I want to pay him a visit before he decides to drop out of sight again. If it's okay, I'd like to take either Martin or Danny with me."

Jack nodded. Out of curiosity, he asked, "What's the address?"

When she told him, he understood her desire to have a male presence with her. It was in an area no one - male or female - felt comfortable going to alone.

Rising, he reached for his jacket and shrugged it on. "I'll go. I could do with the stretch of legs."

She looked at him in surprise. He'd listened to her progress reports with little comment and rarely offered ideas. Now he wanted to head out into the field?

"You sure?" she asked.

He nodded, wondering if the doubt he heard in her tone sprang from a preference for having someone else - _anyone_ else - go with her.

-xxx-

The ride in the car was made in silence.

It was, however, neither the comfortable silence of long ago nor the tense, cool silence of just months ago. Instead, the empty air between them was now filled with something else. Caution. Distance. Reserve. Things Jack regretted and didn't know how to remove. Turning into a parking spot and shutting off the ignition, he nodded at the building to their left.

"This is the address."

Samantha looked out the front window of the car and up at the structure he'd indicated.

"This can't be it," she said firmly, "Something's wrong."

By the look of it, the building had been abandoned for some time. Broken lower-floor windows, a front door partially held open by an over-flowing garbage can, and street detritus drifting across the steps told them all they needed to know about anyone who might presently reside there.

"This isn't where he lives," Samantha reaffirmed with assurance.

When Jack looked at her enquiringly, she explained, "He's Sparks' business partner. He may _own_ the building, but he sure doesn't _live_ here." Looking across at him, her sense of defeat was obvious when she said, "I knew this was a bad part of town, but figured perhaps it was a place he'd fixed up for his own use. People are doing that all over town, in unexpected, rundown areas." She shrugged. "So much for hoping."

Jack could feel her disappointment. Wanting to help erase it, he said, "It's only a small setback. The source who told you he's back can likely point you in the right direction. Let's pay him a visit."

Samantha nodded, wondering at his willingness to spend time on something she knew he'd lost interest in. Looking at his remote features as he pulled out onto the street, however, she decided to keep her questions to herself.

-xxx-

The morning passed quickly. Sparks' business partner - a man who used many names, but whose mother had written Steven Hutkins on his birth certificate - was eventually tracked down. To their surprise, they found him in the midst of packing.

"Look, I really can't talk right now," he said while busily throwing items of clothing into a suitcase. "I told you, I'm busy." Following the dark-haired man through his large apartment as he sought for and found things to put into his travel bag, Jack and Samantha resolutely continued to question him about Anthony Sparks and his associates, friends, and enemies.

Finally, Hutkins threw his hands up. "Enough already. I don't know where he might have gone! The guy went crazy the last few months. Spending like crazy, making wild-ass deals with people he had no business dealing with, messin' with people he was crazy to mess with..." He shook his head. "He was real good at what he did. Smart as a whip. Or was until last January or so. Then he just...I dunno... lost all sense of caution, I guess. Lost his business sense. I pulled back; tried to sever relations where I could. I don't got no death wish."

"And you think Anthony Sparks did?" Jack asked.

"He had somethin'. I told you: he went crazy. "

"Did it have anything to do with Tammy Star, the girlfriend who went missing?"

Hutkins paused, then shook his head. "He went crazy ass before that." He paused again. "But he did get _scared_ after she went missin'." He looked at the two agents. "You may be on to something. Maybe..." His face clouded over and he took a step backwards. "I gotta go. Really."

"Maybe what?" Samantha pressed. "It's important you tell us."

"I don't know nuthin'. It was just a crazy idea I had."

"We need to find him, Mr. Hutkins," she insisted.

Steve Hutkins shook his head. "Maybe not. Maybe you better just let him be. There's people wouldn't mind seeing him dead. He might end up that way if you bring him out from cover."

Samantha looked at him intently, then let her eyes slowly travel to the suitcase he was busy filling. "I'm surprised you're going away again so soon. You've thought of something that makes you think _you _may be in danger, too?"

He paused to think, opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. Putting up one hand, he waved it back and forth. "No. I'm not gonna say anything. Just leave it be and go. I don't know where he is. That's the truth, and that's all I'm gonna say."

Samantha looked over at Jack, and saw that he looked as frustrated and angry as she was beginning to feel. _Stupid, stupid people_, she thought.

Jack's next words and tone gave evidence of his eroding patience. "Mr. Hutkins. A young woman - no, make that_ two_ young women - have disappeared, and now Anthony Sparks is missing, too. If you know something, why not just get it off your chest? If something has happened to them and we find out you knew anything - anything at _all_ - you're going to be charged not only as an accessory but with obstruction as well. And if you don't believe _that_," he said, his eyes boring into the younger man's, "just try me."

Hutkins paused, his eyes caught by Jack's stare. Letting a breath out noisily, he forced his glance to jump from Jack to Samantha and then back. After a moment's silent thought, he appeared to make a decision. His shoulders slumped. "Okay," he said, "okay."

He sat on the edge of the bed heavily. "I don't know it for a _fact_, but my guess is that Tammy Starr disappeared for the same reason the first girl did: as a warning for Anthony to smarten up and pay back what he'd been skimming." He swiped manicured fingers through his hair. "God, he was nuts to try something and think they wouldn't notice. He said it was going to be the last time, that he was gonna cut and run as soon as he had enough and they'd never find him. But when Tammy went missing..." He shook his head. "He'd been nervous for a while, but that really did it. He couldn't liquidate his assets as quickly as he'd expected and was short on cash. He was panicked. I'm hoping he just disappeared to stay alive, but if any of the people he's been playin' got him, he's as dead as my grandma."

Jack and Samantha looked at one another. "Where would he go if he wanted to hide, Mr. Hutkins?" Samantha asked.

Hutkins shrugged. "Not a clue. He was messing with everyone. But I don't think he'd go far. Maybe upstate? His family are from there, I think." Steve paused, then shook his head again. "But he didn't have much use for them." Continuing to think aloud, he grunted. "Nope. No way he'd go that way. Too many people after him."

"Then we're going to need the names of those 'too many people'," Samantha said briskly. Pencil poised over her notebook, she waited expectantly. Hutkins glanced at Jack, then, after a heavy sigh, began to name names.

-xxx-

The drive back to the office held a different air. Perhaps it had been the pleasure of working together again, perhaps it had been the feeling that they were getting closer to firm answers. Whatever the case, both Jack and Samantha were smiling when they entered the bull pen.

A quick heads up, and the entire team was soon settled around the large table. Jack let them know they'd now all be working on the list of people Hutkins had given them.

It took them a while to go through all the names, and it wasn't until late that evening that Samantha and Jack found someone with something interesting to say.

"I hear he changed just before Tammy Starr disappeared," Samantha said. "Do you think he was being threatened? Do you think he was afraid of anyone in particular?"

The dark haired woman who'd answered the door and admitted to being Rachel LaShine shrugged. "Honey, anyone running with the people he was runnin' with shoulda _always_ been scared. _He_ didn't get scared, though, until they started makin' noises about that girl of his..."

Jack looked at the woman curiously. She was middle-aged, well-preserved, and regarded them with a calm assurance unusual for someone who associated with the people she did. She was also the first person whose judgment he felt inclined to trust.

"Making noises?" he asked.

Her eyes flickered away from his, then returned to firmly hold his gaze. "Yeah. Thing is, on the street, everyone knows that if someone owes you money, it don't do no good to hurt the person who owes it to ya. Not at first, anyways. If you want your money, you gotta go after the people they _care_ about."

"You're saying Anthony Sparks cared for Tammy Starr?"

That Samantha considered that unlikely was evident in her voice.

Rachael, however, nodded. "That's what I hear. I can sorta see it happenin'. Tammy wasn't a bad girl. She had smarts.You'd have to ask Bertie Black if you want to know for sure, though. He knew everything that was goin' on with Tony."

Jack and Samantha glanced at one another. They already knew who Bertie was. In fact, he was next on their ever-shortening list of people to talk to. Bertie Black had acted as a sort of dogsbody for Sparks, taking care of daily minutia Sparks felt beneath him.

Jack rose and thanked Rachael for her time. Rachael nodded and smiled, regret tinging her expression when she said, "My guess is they're all dead, but wouldn't it be nice to find out they've just run off? Everything I hear tells me he really cared for the girl. Not a smart move, maybe, but still kinda nice to hear..." Her voice trailed off as she fell into thought.

Nodding, the agents rose and left her to her wistful musings.

Holding the door open as they left the building, Jack looked at Samantha.

"What?" he asked when she shot him a cynical smirk.

"She has a romantic streak in her. Who'd have thought it?"

Jack grunted. "And she appeared so normal," he said dryly. Still, there was something inside him that made him add, "It'd be nice, though, if just once things had a nicer motivation than what we usually see."

Samantha smiled briefly. Turning amused eyes to meet his, she warned, "Careful, Jack. You'll start looking like a romantic yourself."

"What?" he said, feigning surprise. "You don't think he might have cared for her? That he might have decided to leave the business and take her with him?"

Samantha said nothing as she slid into the passenger seat. Watching him as he got in behind the steering wheel and strapped on his seatbelt, she grinned and admitted, "A fairytale ending would be nice this time, but I can't see it happening. Sparks doesn't seem to be the romantic type."

Without thinking, he responded, "Fairy tales are good; they give us hope. And anyone can be the romantic type if they fall in love." He switched on the ignition, then turned to look at her and lost whatever it was he had been going to say. He'd fallen in love with _her_. This beautiful, enchanting woman sitting beside him. Had he been romantic? They'd had their moments, he supposed, but all that skulking around... had she ever truly _felt_ loved? Remorse hit him hard in the gut, making it difficult for him to breathe. Was she loved now? Did her baby's father love her the way she deserved to be? Did-

Realising she was waiting expectantly for him continue, he said feebly, "Perhaps-"

"Perhaps we better not get too carried away with this idea," Samantha said, intuiting that he was thinking thoughts she'd tried to shy away from. The past was in the past; done and over with, and you couldn't go back. Ever. And definitely, she thought with a tinge of sorrow, definitely not now.

"Let's talk to Bertie before we call it a night," she suggested resolutely. "He didn't have anything to say when I talked to him the first time around, but maybe he'll feel a little more inclined to do so now..."

Jack nodded and turned his attention to guiding his vehicle through traffic.

-xxx-

Bertie didn't seem to think their theory held water. He sat at his kitchen table, his scalp shining through his sparse hair. Nervous fingers moved rhythmically against the Formica top. At the agent's question, he'd abruptly moved backwards. "Hiding? No way," he declared. "Absolutely no way. He's gone; been toe-tagged and met his Maker. He's six feet under and stone cold dead. He's-"

Jack broke into Bertie's litany of euphemisms . "What makes you say that, Mr. Shaw? Others seem to think there's a good possibility he's just hiding."

Bertie grunted. "Yeah, the hopeful ones who want their money, maybe. Tony is dead. Dead and buried where no one will find him. And that girl of his, Tammy? She was dead and buried before him. That's it. You cross people, you die. I don't have to tell you guys how it works."

In truth, he didn't. Still, something didn't add up. "So why is it we're just hearing about the love story now, Bertie? How is it that at first she was just a whore working the street he called a girlfriend to legitimize their relationship, but now we find out there's so much more? How is it no one said anything about romantic attachments until he went missing, too? He certainly didn't seem all that upset when he reported her missing, and although he admitted she was his girlfriend, he gave a distinctly different interpretation of that term. So which was was it? Love story, or business arrangement?"

Bertie looked away. "Couldn't tell ya."

"It sound more like you _won't_, Bertie," Samantha said, her voice hardening as she spoke. Her eyes narrowed, and she made an instinctive guess: "You know more now than you did when I spoke with you last. Has he contacted you? Do you know where he is?"

Bertie rose and moved to the kitchen counter. Opening the dishwasher, he began to nervously fill it with dirty dishes he took from the sink and counter top. "I think you guys should go now. You're setting yourself up for a wild goose chase," he said firmly. Turning, he stopped his housekeeping and said, "Look, this is how it went down: Sparks went nuts; stole money that wasn't his to steal. When Tammy Starr disappeared, he knew it was a message. Trouble is, he got it too late, and he paid for it." Lifting a hand that still held a dirty glass, he said, "He's gone. Permanently gone, and that's all I've got to say about it."

Silence hung in the air as Bertie finished putting the final glass in the washer and then lifted the door and firmly pushed it closed.

Samantha glanced a Jack. The knowing look they shared had them both nodding. They wouldn't get more out of Bertie now. Later, perhaps, but not now.

Rising, Jack turned towards the door. "Then thank you, Mr. Black. We'll be in touch." Lifting a hand to gesture Samantha out the door in front of him, they left.

Bertie stood staring as the door closed, his mouth slightly open in surprise at how abruptly they'd given up. When the door latch clicked, he sagged in relief.

-xxx-

Walking to the car, something clicked in Samantha's memory. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes darting towards Jack. "Sparks got scared before Tammy Sparks disappeared, right?"

Jack stopped and turned back to look at her. "Yeah. That's what they said, anyway."

"He's scared, she disappears, and then a few weeks later, _he_ disappears. What if he had Tammy disappear to keep her safe?"

Jack mulled the idea around in his head. "That would depend upon whether or not the story about him being in love with her is true."

Samantha nodded. "And if it is, having her disappear and then him following her would make perfectly good sense. One of his creditors would simply think that one of his _other_ creditors made the hit first." She paused to think. "He was too smart to do some of the things people were saying he did. He knew what was going to happen. He'd have been crazy not to have. So _he_ took care of things before _they_ could."

Jack frowned. "Sparks killed her?"

She shook her head impatiently. "No! I told you: I think he _helped her disappear_, and then _followed__ her_ to wherever she is now."

Jack took the couple steps back to her and took her arm, slowly guiding her towards the car again. "It's a theory, but we'll have to look into a few more things before we can consider it seriously."

She glanced at him. "Why? I thought it was _you_ championing the love story. Have you decided he couldn't have loved her after all?" She kept the disappointment out of her voice, but felt it anyway. Some part of her, some lonely, little-girl part of her hoped for a happy ending, hoped that there had been love somewhere in the story they were slowly piecing together.

"He's not exactly your regular, everyday upstanding citizen," Jack admitted.

"And upstanding citizens are the only people allowed to care about someone else?"

Jack looked at her, surprised that she seemed to have changed sides in the 'love or not love' issue. Finding it impossible to read her expression, he answered cautiously. "I think it might be considered _unlikely_ that he would fall for a woman he had working the streets for him, yes."

He waited while she digested his words, then found himself compelled to add, "But I also think it's a real possibility that he did. Love doesn't always happen when and where you expect it to."

Without conscious thought, their eyes met and held. _Love doesn't always happen when and where you expect it to_. Memories swirled around them, holding them motionless. Their breaths caught as unbidden memories of the warmth and emotions they'd shared, of the comfort they'd found in each other's arms, filled them with with a sad, strange longing...

Someone made an irritated sound in their throat and with a huffed 'excuse me', stepped around them on the sidewalk. Reminded that they had a job to do, their eyes parted and they resumed their trek to the car.

As they did, Jack chastised himself. Samantha was pregnant, and under God knew what sorts of stress. She hadn't discussed her situation beyond her brief announcement, and he hadn't inquired for further details. That he should be even peripherally having feelings about her - even if they were residual feelings about what they had once shared - was wrong.

He shook his head and sighed. He had to get a grip on reality. With conscious effort, he tensed his fingers around the steering wheel and turned the car into the traffic.

End  
Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the delay. Monday sneaked past me somehow! As always, thanks to Diane for her eagle eye - and her kick in the pants!

**No Fairy Tale, This**  
By: Mariel

Chapter 4: _Building on the Moment_

When Samantha and Jack returned to the office, they discovered that Elena, Danny, Martin, and Vivian had cleared their work areas, neatly piled their reports on Jack's desk, and gone home. Samantha, however, felt no such urge and wanted to continue working. Gesturing at the files, she suggested, "Let's take a quick look through those to see if they found anything interesting."

Jack wasn't optimistic. "They'd have called us," he said.

Ignoring his less-than-enthusiastic tone, Samantha reached across his desk and picked up the top folder. "Perhaps, but they don't know what we know, do they? So perhaps they wouldn't recognise the significance of something. We didn't call to update them. Maybe we should have."

It was true. Jack looked at the clock and then at Samantha. "Let me order something to eat, then. You shouldn't be missing meals; it's not good for you _or_ the baby."

The minute the words about the baby were out of his mouth, he regretted them. They had carefully avoided all reference to her pregnancy, and he didn't want to start acknowledging it now. Truth be told, he'd been surprised at her stamina; his wife had spent the first trimester without energy and plagued by nausea. Maria had also been very testy about being reminded she was now responsible for more than just herself. Samantha, though some days wan, did not appear to be suffering as his wife had, but she might resent being reminded of the life she carried within her. He held his breath, waiting for her reaction.

To his surprise, Samantha merely nodded. "Yeah, you're right," she said. "I hadn't realised the time." Placing a hand against a stomach that barely hinted of the life growing within, she said, "I'm starved; you feel like Chinese?"

Carefully covering the relief her response gave him, Jack reached for the phone.

-xxx-

The remains of their impromptu dinner cleared away, the two agents sat back and shared a look.

"Bertie knows something important," Samantha said in a sure tone. "He has to. We need to see him again."

Jack drew his brows together in puzzlement. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

"There's something about the way he talked," she replied. She hesitated and moved her hands restlessly. "I'm missing something. It's a feeling I've got. Don't know what it is, but I'm positive he knows more than he let on."

Jack was willing to entertain the idea, but cautioned, "He may refuse to tell us. And whatever it is he knows might not be all that useful."

She nodded. Picturing Bertie as she'd last seen him, she frowned and then stiffened as realisation swept through her. It had been right in front of her all along. It was simple, so _simple_, and yet... He'd put _three _plates away, and_ three_ coffee mugs, _three_ glasses...Turning her eyes back to Jack, she said, "They've been there. At Bertie's. Bertie knows where they are." She rose quickly and looked down at him expectantly. "We've gotta go back."

Jack looked up at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Tammy and Tony; they've been at Bertie's," she repeated. "Dammit, they've _eaten_ there. Maybe today. _Probably_ today. We need to go back."

At sea as to where she'd gotten this idea, he remained sitting and merely stared at her.

Wanting to urge him into movement, her words came fast: "He was putting dishes into the dishwasher. There were three of everything. That's a bit strange for someone living alone, don't you think?"

Jack shrugged. "Not if it's been three meals since he last did the dishes."

She glared at him. "Don't be silly. No one uses the exact same number of plates and glasses and forks and spoons over a period of time. Those dishes were from one meal. There weren't enough pots and pans for three meals. Tammy and Sparks were there. Or _are_ there. Perhaps that's where they've been hiding out all along! Maybe Bertie's the one hiding them! Who'd think to look there? We didn't!"

Jack looked at her in disbelief. Objecting to her somewhat hair-brained idea would only cause tension between them. She was on a mission, and there seemed little point in dampening her enthusiasm. Besides, he asked himself, what _else_ did he have to do? So, in spite of the hour, Jack rose and gathered up his coat.

"Okay. Let's go pay him another visit, then," he said. Opening the door to his office, he gestured her through it. Memories stirred again as the gentle scent of her perfume wafted in the air as she passed.

-xxx-

After knocking on Bertie Black's door, Jack and Samantha waited. Inside, they could hear a radio softly playing. Knocking again, they listened as a song ended and an announcer began to speak. Finally, Samantha said, "I don't think he's here."

Wondering if Bertie had disappeared the way he strongly suspected Hutkins had been preparing to, Jack nodded. Both stared at the door and weighed the odds as to whether or not a judge would allow a search warrant for Bertie's apartment. They were about to reluctantly turn away and leave when they heard a low groan on the other side of the door.

Their attention immediately caught, Jack glanced at Samantha. She nodded, and without hesitation he took out his weapon and made quick use of this excuse to break open the door. Guns ready, they entered the apartment. Bertie was lying on the floor between the living room and the hall. As Samantha dropped to the fallen man's side, Jack quickly ascertained that the rest of the apartment was empty. After checking all the rooms, he joined Samantha.

Bertie was on his back, holding his head, his legs askew. Blood stained his hands and the carpet beneath his head.

To their relief, he was alive, his pulse strong, and, just as importantly, he was slowly regaining consciousness.

After a quick call to 911 for an ambulance, they began to question him about what had happened.

Bertie winced. "Hutkins." He winced, then cursed. "Dammit. It was him." He breathed a while, trying to clear his thoughts. He looked at Jack. "Are Tammy and Tony okay?"

"They're not here," Jack told him, watching Bertie carefully for his reaction to the news.

"Neither of them?" he asked.

"Why would you expect them to be here," Jack asked.

The wounded man lay, obviously trying to think. "If Tammy's gone, Hutkins must have taken her, and if Tony's gone..." His voice trailed off as he once again lapsed into thought. "Tony must have come to and gone after them."

"Come to?" Samantha asked.

"Tony and Steve fought. Tony got knocked out."

Jack looked at Samantha and nodded his head. "That keys up with the evidence. There are signs of a struggle in the second bedroom. There's blood, but no Tony. Tony must have followed them when he regained consciousness." Looking back down at Bertie, he asked, "What happened before Steve knocked Tony out?"

Bertie groaned and held his head more tightly. "Steve came looking for money. He made some kind of deal that he'd see to it that Tony paid back what he owed. Someone got to him big time. He was shit scared, but determined. Said if Tony didn't pay up they'd all end up dead. There was a fight. Tony was unconscious the last I saw. I tried to get to a phone, but all I remember is waking up and you guys busting in." Remembering that made him gingerly hold his head again. "I thought Steve was gonna kill him for sure. But he musta just taken Tammy. I-" Here he stopped, and began to rock gently, his pain obvious.

Samantha looked at Jack, her eyes angry. "They're still hoping to get their money, so they want to keep Sparks alive," she said. Looking at the door, she asked, "How long ago?"

"We'd just sat down for a late dinner. Eight thirty, maybe?"

Jack looked at his watch. "I wonder how much lead time they have." He then looked at Bertie, wondering what role he had played in all this. His desire to know where Tammy had been taken was stronger, however. "Where would Hutkins take her?"

"I don't know," he said without pausing to think. When Jack frowned, he added, "There are a couple warehouses he owns. Don't know if most people know that they're his. Maybe-"

Samantha's head lifted as she heard the sound of an ambulance pulling up outside. Turning to look at Jack, she said, "I can't imagine we'd hit it that lucky, but maybe we should go have a look."

Jack agreed. After obtaining the address and letting in the EMTs, they prepared to leave. On impulse, Jack turned one last time and addressed Bertie. "Anything else we should know?" he asked him.

Bertie looked at them, then let his eyes slide away. Jack paused expectantly. When the wounded man said nothing, he prompted again, "Anything else we should know?"

Bertie paused, then reluctantly said, "She's pregnant."

Jack looked at him sharply. "The girlfriend?" he asked.

"Yeah. Tammy," Bertie said, wincing as the EMT moved him slightly. "When Tony took up with her, he took her off the streets. And when he got her knocked up, instead of dumping her, he went crazy and decided he wanted to marry her. That's why he was in such a panic to have her disappear. He was scared something would happen to her and the kid."

Jack stood and turned to Samantha. That answered a whole lot of questions. "We'd better go. I'll call for some back up."

-xxx-

Samantha cursed as they hurried through the corridor to the elevator. "They were there the whole time. I can't believe it. If they'd come out, they'd both be safe now."

"And facing possible criminal charges," Jack noted.

"Better that than dead," she replied sharply.

Jack shrugged. "They weren't expecting Hutkins to show up. They figured they were almost home free. A few more days for things to clear up financially, and they'd have been off."

There was silence for a while, as Jack phoned in where they were headed and requested back up. Then Samantha said quietly, "So it really was a love story. He was trying to save her."

"And himself," Jack said practically. "Along with the money he'd stolen."

She frowned at him. "You were so into the whole love thing before."

"I still am," he admitted, "But I'm also practical. There's a lot more to this than just love."

She looked at him as his words repeated themselves in her mind. _There's a lot more to this than just love... _The words wounded her for some reason, saddened her. More proof that love wasn't enough. It certainly hadn't been enough for her and Jack, and now...She closed her eyes. Now, love didn't stand a chance.

End  
Chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Things are drawing to a close. Just a couple chapters, left, I figure. Thanks for reading and commenting, and enjoy the day!

* * *

**No Fairy Tale, This**  
By: Mariel  
�

Chapter 5

_Yesterday_

For four weeks the search continued, each day seeing an erosion of hope and fewer resources made available as newer, more immediate cases made demands on their time and attention. After speaking to everyone again, and looking everywhere they could think of and exploring every possibility that came to mind, they had still not found any sign of either Tony, Steve, or Tammy. There was no sense to it, but their trail had gone as cold as a New York January, with witnesses few and uncertain and rumours impossible to trace.

Samantha had felt herself gradually withdraw, her fiery determination to find Tammy and Tony slowly fading to dull despair. But although other cases came and went, still the files for this one sat stubbornly on her desk, refusing to be forgotten or totally ignored. The reasons for this were many, perhaps. Knowledge that Tammy was pregnant had sent a shock of empathy running through Samantha that she hadn't been able to shake. No matter how disparate their lives, this strange business of carrying another life within connected them in some way that even Samantha herself couldn't explain.

And she knew, on some instinctive level, that she had to keep searching until she knew what had happened to the street girl who had become loved in such unusual circumstances. She wanted a happy ending, wanted Tammy and Tony to escape their lives and rebuild somewhere new. She wanted, for just this once, something good to happen to someone...

She wanted..._needed_...some sign of hope.

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted her thoughts. Looking up, she saw Jack standing near, his face subtly showing concern he would never express in words.

"You were a million miles away," he said.

She nodded. "Yeah. Lots to think about."

Understanding, he let his eyes drift to the all-too-familiar pile of file folders.

"We might never find out what happened," he said softly.

"My head knows that," she said, in a matching tone, "but Jack, they're out there somewhere. Hutkins hasn't been seen either, so that means perhaps they've all gone into hiding. Maybe they reached an agreement; maybe it was all part of an act Tony had planned all along to fool everyone. I mean, he thought of having Tammy disappear; why not plan something even bigger, and take his business partner with him?"

The hope in her voice made Jack's heart sink. They'd spoken along these lines before, and plane, train, and bus passenger lists had all been investigated throroughly.

Nothing had turned up, and Tony's car had been found deserted not far from his home.

"There's no sign of any of them. You could be right; or maybe the people who were after them caught up with them and dealt with them instead. It's hard to say, but we've got other cases to think about."

His caution, though gently spoken, made her shoulders tense. With just a touch of impatience in her tone she told him, "I know that; you don't have to remind me. I've been doing my job, Jack, it's just that..."

And here her voice drifted off again, her anger gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"Yeah," his voice rumbled with understanding, "I know..."

They remained in position a while, frozen in thoughtful silence. Finally, Samantha looked up. Inhaling deeply, she let her tension go in one, relaxing exhale. Grasping at the one positive she could, she smiled slightly. Turning her eyes from the ceiling, she looked at him.

"Thank you," she said.

Jack tilted his head to one side. When his eyes met hers, the question in them was obvious.

Samantha gestured. "For this. For understanding- or at least for _pretending_ to understand. And for your patience."

"This has been difficult," he said, acknowledging her feelings in a way distinctly his own: quietly, softly, without judgment.

She dropped her head and looked at her hands. "Yeah," she answered in a whisper.

Wondering if this were wise or not, he shifted, and put his hand into his suit coat pocket. Something had come across his desk, something he'd been uncertain about responding to. Now, being here, he saw he had no choice. "Some information got passed along to me today. It might not be anything, but we've got time, so if you like..."

He saw her spine straighten. "What?" she asked, looking up at him again.

He shrugged, not wanting to get her hopes up. "Like I said, it's just a chance, but still..."

He held out a piece of paper. "Vivian found another building in Steven Hutkins' name. I guess we missed it before because his isn't the first name on the ownership papers. He owns it with a couple other part-time con artists." He paused, and then raised an eyebrow. "These guys are regular Donald Trumps with all their real estate deals."

Samantha smiled at the wry observation and reached out to take the scrap of paper.

"Maybe, if you want, we could go have a look?" he asked. "The building is still on the grid, so someone's been paying for water and hydro, but it doesn't appear to be leased to anyone at the moment. It's a long shot, but-"

Looking at the address, Samantha stood and then moved to get her coat. Shrugging it on, she looked at him. "I'm ready," she said.

Jack's lips curved upwards. "Guess that means we're on our way."

-xxx-

They had barely gotten to the elevator when Jack's cell phone rang. Answering it, he stopped to listen intently.

"He _what_?" Jack asked into the receiver. Samantha could read the quick tension in his stance, and could hear a faint voice respond. "When?" he asked sharply. In a heartbeat, he was asking "What's the address?" While he spoke, he got his pen and paper pad out and then scribbled whatever was being told to him. "Stay where you are. We'll be talking to you later."

Flipping his cell closed, Jack cursed. "The sonofabitch." Turning to Samantha, he said, "Tony was just at Bertie's; Bertie told him where Tony and Tammy are hiding."

"Bertie_ knew_ and he didn't tell us?" Samantha asked. "How much does it take to get it through his thick skull that we're only trying to _protect _his boss!"

"He said he was just doing what Tony told him to do," Jack grunted as he turned to walk towards the elevator. "Damned fool. I have an address, at least. Hutkins has maybe a two hour lead on us. He came and strong-armed the information out of Bertie. Bertie got scared and told him, then figured maybe he should call us, just in case."

Samantha grunted. "He waited long enough! Must have come to the conclusion that if Hutkins kills them, he'll become an accessory."

Jack nodded. "That's my guess."

"This case is just crawling with princes, you know that?" Samantha commented in disgust. "They were staying at his place, for Christsakes. He was supposed to be protecting them."

"He was afraid for his life," Jack cautioned. "And he was used to taking orders from Tony. Tony said don't tell, so his first impulse would be to not tell. At least he got around to calling us."

"So where are we headed?"

Jack told her as they rode the elevator down to the parking level.

Settling into her seat, Samantha tried to quell the trembling that seemed to have overtaken her. "Should we call the police and have them go there first?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "I think it might be better to go in quietly. I don't want to scare anyone off. If the police were to get there first, he'd just pass by and keep going until he has another chance. I think we should go in and call for backup once we've assessed the situation."

Samantha nodded. Forcing her shoulder muscles to relax, she began to focus on the road ahead. They'd get there in time. Everything would be all right.

Closing her eyes, she placed a slender-fingered hand on her stomach as she searched for hope. Everything would be all right, she repeated to herself. It had to be.

End  
Chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Apologies for those who followed this story until its abrupt stop a few months ago. Life, changes of mind as to how this story would fit into the WaT time line, and other things slowed me down. I've finished it now, though, with much thanks due to gentle reminders from friends!

I'm looking forward to seeing next season and have my fingers crossed that the writers don't do something weird. There are a lot of possibilities for some great story telling both on screen and in fan fiction. Here's hoping that we get plenty of fodder! Oh, please, please, please let things work out!

A note: This site no longer forwards reviews to my email, and I'm not sure that anyone ever gets my responses to their reviews. I can't figure out what happened or why, and admin is not helping at all. Sad, but a fact of life. Still, if the spirit moves you to say something,_ please_ do. It's appreciated and makes my heart happy!

* * *

**No Fairy Tale, This**  
By: Mariel

Chapter 6: _The Girl Gets the Guy_

After they had driven for what seemed a long time, Samantha looked over at Jack. "Could you stop at the next gas station?"

Jack nodded without comment. One thing he remembered vividly was his wife Maria's almost constant need to go to the bathroom in even the early stages of her pregnancies. Fifteen minutes later, they had stopped and then resumed their journey. Sitting tensely, Samantha's hands moved restlessly in her lap.

Conscious of her every move, Jack reached over to still them. "It'll be okay," he said, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. Not daring to look to see her reaction to his gesture, he removed his hand, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead.

"I'm afraid for them," she admitted in a soft voice. "I-"

She stopped abruptly and looked out of the side window. It wasn't like her to admit this sort of weakness; feel for the missing person, yes; get emotionally involved, yes; but she rarely shared her feelings in words, and since her estrangement from Jack, she'd shared them with no one. Now, however, it all seemed more than she could bear. A woman carrying a small life within her; a man who loved her, trying to protect her but on the run himself; another who appeared willing to do them harm if the price were right.

Placing a hand over her stomach, she felt a tremor of fear course through her.

"What if we're too late?" she asked. "What if Hutkins gets there first?"

Jack tried to reassure her. "He won't harm them," he said. Chancing a quick look at her, he wondered if his touching her had said too much and if, although she was too preoccupied at the moment to notice his lapse, she would remember it later and wonder.

Unaware of Jack's musings, Samantha said, "I don't know about that. He scared the living crap out of Bertie Black, and he may have orders to kill them if he doesn't get what they want."

Falling back into the safety of the topic at hand, Jack firmly gathered his thoughts together and nodded, What she'd said was true. Bertie had been truly shaken by Hutkins' actions, and in all honesty, Jack had been surprised himself at the ferocity of the man's actions. Whoever was behind Hutkins' desperate pursuit of Tammy and Tony had to be someone who wielded a lot of influence on the other side of the law. It didn't take a lot of stretch to believe Hutkins might have been given orders to kill. It was a known fact of criminal life that if someone double crosses you, you made an example of them to prevent others from getting stupid ideas. It was a tested and tried method, and it worked. Whoever was behind Hutkins wouldn't hesitate to use it.

"Yeah," Jack admitted reluctantly, "Tony's creditors are serious about wanting their money, and Hutkins knows he's a dead man if he doesn't get it for them." Finally voicing his deepest concern, he said, "There's a note of desperation in all this that makes me uncomfortable. If Hutkins is afraid for his life, I think you're right: he won't hesitate to kill them. That means he might act rashly, and make a fatal decision before he needs to."

Shifting in his seat to find a more comfortable driving position, Jack continued, "He may be hoping a few more threats will do it. He's got them running; he's already had Tammy once-"

Breaking into his words, she said, "I'd like to know how that all came about. How did Tammy get away? Did Hutkins just let her go? Did Tony catch up with them and rescue her? It's like something out of a movie...There's so much we don't know."

"We'll know soon enough," Jack said. Inclining his head, he continued, "Pull out the map again. I want to make sure we're on the right highway."

She nodded and reached for the map.

-xxx-

It was dusk by the time they reached the warehouse. Jack parked the car in a far corner of the parking areas in front, and the two of them were soon making their way towards the entrance. Quickly focussing his attention on the one, lone vehicle parked near the front door, he nodded his head towards it and said, "I'm going to call in the license number. If that car belongs to Hutkins, I'll ask for backup. You go ahead and check the doors; see if there's one we can get through without announcing our arrival."

Samantha nodded. After trying and failing to open the front reception door, she gestured towards the back of the building. Busy speaking to someone on his cell phone, Jack merely nodded for her to continue her search for a way in.

Stepping into the alleyway between the warehouse and the building next to it, Samantha felt her hair lift slightly as a light evening breeze tunneled through the narrow space. Dusk was quickly settling into dark now, and the deep shadow between the two buildings felt oppressive and disquieting. She moved carefully, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she spotted a shallow cement step leading to a side entrance. A sign over it read, 'Exit Only', but reaching up, she tried the handle anyway. To her surprise, it opened easily, swinging out on well-oiled hinges. Samantha paused, then stepped up onto the door sill to listen for sounds of movement inside. At first, black silence was all that greeted her. Then, off to the left, she heard what she was sure was movement. She looked back towards where she had left Jack. Hesitating, she moved to retreat back into the alley when she heard another sound echo dully in the darkness. Reaching for her gun, she allowed her growing sense of urgency to lead her, and she shifted direction and made a firm step deeper into the building.

Jack would see the open door, and follow.

At first, the darkness inside seemed complete. Stopping a moment to adjust to her surroundings, she listened carefully, stilling her breath in order to hear.

No sound marred the eerie quiet.

Moving forward cautiously, she saw a faint light to her left. Carefully, she moved in its direction.

While she moved forward, the open door behind her swayed gently in the evening breeze. She had gone quite a distance into the building when, pushed by a stronger gust, it closed, making a dull thud as door met jamb. A faint 'click' indicated that this time, the automatic lock had engaged.

Samantha heard the sound behind her and stopped. Uncertain as to what it was, she turned and waited. Nothing. Another, distant sound encouraged her to continue still deeper into the building. She'd keep her ears open for sounds of Jack's arrival. She quickened her steps.

Eventually, she found her way to the bottom of a set of stairs leading to the second floor. The stairs were wide and surprisingly clean for what appeared to be an abandoned building. Holding her gun firmly, she began to climb.

-xxx-

As soon as Jack learned that it was Steve Hutkins' car outside the warehouse, he asked for backup. Walking to the alleyway Samantha had disappeared into, he looked for signs of her but found none. While still giving quiet instructions into the phone, he began to go towards the back of the building in search of her. Since she hadn't come back, she must, he figured, be waiting at a rear entrance. Habitually, however, he tried a side door as he reached it. Pulling on the handle, he found it securely locked. With one last backward glance towards the front of the building, he headed towards the back. He closed his phone, the local police assuring him they would be there within five minutes.

_Soon_, he thought confidently, _Soon, it will be all over_.

-xxx-

Samantha stopped part way up the stairs and listened intently. Her caution was rewarded. Above, she heard the definite sound of muted voices. Sliding closer to the wall, she resumed her upward climb. When she reached the top step, she paused again, noting that she had only one way to go - down a long corridor with a number of doors on each side. The doors had small windows, and through some of them light shone out into the hall. Carefully, she stepped onto the landing, then slowly moved towards the first door with a light on. As she neared it, she could hear what sounded like a whimper. Cautiously, she looked through the window in the door. There was a very pregnant young woman inside the room, lying on the floor with her back against the wall. She looked to be in pain. A dark-haired man kneeled beside her, his voice audible, but his words indecipherable.

Tammy Starr and Tony Sparks; it couldn't possibly have been anyone else.

Trying the doorknob carefully, she winced as it made a slight sliding sound. She stood back, moving out of sight, her heart pounding.

A man's voice immediately called out. "Is someone there? Please! Help us! We can't get out!"

She heard Tony's voice come closer to the door. She could tell from the timber of his voice that his face was pressed hard against the glass as he continued, "Please! Let us out!" He banged on the door for emphasis. "Help!" he called out. "We need help!"

Stepping out so that he could see her, but keeping her voice as low as possible because she wasn't certain if Hutkins were in the building somewhere, Samantha held up her badge and identified herself.

A look of concern flashed across his features, but was quickly supplanted by one of relief. He stepped back from the door. "Thank God!" he exclaimed. Gesturing towards the woman on the floor, he said, "My wife. She's been shot. I think she's having the baby. The door's locked. We can't get out."

"Where is Steven Hutkins?" Samantha asked, trying the door again as she spoke.

"He was here. I think he left for food and water. He's gone crazy. He shot Tammy, then locked us in here. She's bleeding. I think she may be in labour. You've got to get us out of here. You've got to help her!"

There was no doubting Tony's deep concern. Responding to that, Samantha tried to shoulder the door. It didn't budge. Noticing the type of lock, she shook her head at herself and drew out her plastic security scan card. Deftly flicking it between the door and the door jamb while turning the knob, the door opened.

Rushing over to where Tammy lay, Samantha knelt beside her. She could see both pain and fear in the young woman's eyes.

"You've been shot?" she asked. "Where?"

In response, Tammy raised her arm. There was a blood-stained tear in the upper arm of her thin jacket, evidence that Hutkins had, indeed, caught the young woman a glancing shot on her upper arm.

"That's all?" she asked.

Tammy winced and leaned forward. "Yes," she said between gritted teeth, "But it's enough. It hurts like hell. We tried to get away. And now-" She winced fiercely, tensed for a long moment, then relaxed with a loud exhalation of air. "I think I've gone into labour. God, these must be contractions…They're coming fast... I'm scared."

She started to cry.

Tony dropped to his knees beside her and took her hand. "It's okay, baby. It's okay, I've got you," he promised in a desperate tone. "I won't let anything happen. It'll be all right now. The baby's safe. Just hold on."

Samantha looked back towards the door, thinking rapidly. Knowing she was crazy, but feeling compelled to do it anyway, she said, "You've got to get out of here, and fast. I want you to clear out of here right now."

Tony hesitated, unsure of what she was saying.

Remembering the car out front, she asked, "How did you get here?"

"We drove. We didn't know Steve was following us. I thought this would be a good place to hide for a while until we could make a plan."

"What do you drive?" she asked.

She frowned at his answer. There was only one car in the parking area when she and Jack had arrived, and it wasn't that.

"What does Steve drive? Might the have taken your car when he left?"

Tony's answer reassured her. "Mine's a standard. He doesn't drive one, so he'd take his. Ours is parked behind the building, next to the dumpsters."

So it was Tony's car our front, and he hadn't left the building yet – and certainly wouldn't leave if he saw either Jack or the car they had arrived in. "Hutkins must still be in the building, You need to clear out of here."

Not reassured by the presence of the FBI, Tammy moaned, "He's going to kill us,"

"I don't have the money- He thinks I do, but I don't," Tony stated. "At least not as much as he's looking for. I told him the truth: I got robbed. Totally robbed. If-"

Samantha cut him off abruptly. "Right at the moment, I don't care. You've got to get out of here. Hutkins is still in the building. We've sent for back up."

"We can't go anywhere. I told you: he has the keys!"

Tammy spoke up. Wincing as another contraction took hold, she gasped, "Tony, I've got the spare set. In my back pocket."

Tony's face filled with hope. He leaned over and hugged her hard. "I love you. You're my good luck girl! You're-"

"Tell her about it later," Samantha interrupted impatiently. She looked at Tammy. "You think you can get to the car okay?" When the young woman nodded, she turned to Tony. "You need to go. If Hutkins has spotted my partner outside, he'll likely come back here." Silently she prayed that neither he nor Jack showed up until the two were well on their way. "Get to your car and get the hell out of here. I've got to go find Hutkins," Samantha said shortly. "GO!"

Not understanding why they were being let go, Tony quickly decided not to ask questions and scrambled to his feet. Quickly pulling Tammy to hers, he put a protective, supportive arm around her and looked at Samantha. "I don't know why you're doing this lady, but thank you. I-"

"Shut up and go - and take care of that baby!" Samantha said quickly. She knew she'd live to question her sanity and sense of what was right, but at the moment, she wanted them on their way to a new chance at life.

When they left and turned to go away from the stairs, they proved what Samantha had suspected: there was a back way out that would take them directly to their car. Crossing her fingers Jack wasn't anywhere near there, and that he was just now stepping into the side doorway, she moved to retrace her steps down the stairs.

-xxx-

Rounding the corner to the back of the building, Jack did not find Samantha as expected. Instead, he discovered a small parking area, a dumpster, and a newish sports car. He tried the back door. Finding it securely locked, he moved on to the far corner of the building. Looking down the narrow, gravel-filled alley and seeing no one, he realised Samantha must have continued to circle the building when she found nothing open at the back. She was likely waiting for him beside Hutkins' car, wondering where he'd gone.

Taking a mental note of the license plate of the car out back, he took out his cell phone to call it in as he walked back to the front entrance.

-xxx-

The sounds of Tammy and Tony going down the corridor towards the back became fainter as Samantha retraced her steps back down the stairs to the main level. She was partway down the stairs when she heard someone approaching the bottom of them. Stopping, she moved against the wall and waited, her gun aimed carefully on the spot she expected either Jack or Steven Hutkins to appear.

It was Steve who rounded the corner. He was moving quickly, and Samantha guessed he was aware someone else was in the building.

"FBI," she said in a firm tone. "Stop where you are."

He stopped, more from shock than from a desire to follow someone's order.

"What the fu-"

"Put you hands up."

He looked up at her. "What the hell are you doing here?" His hand was on the railing of the stairway and he moved up a step. "You're trespassing," he said gruffly.

Unimpressed by his display of balls, she said, "I'm here investigating two missing person cases. You're under arrest for kidnapping, armed assault and extortion."

Hutkins was quick to retaliate. Taking another step forward, he said, "Tony's ripping people off. He and that bitch of his. They-"

"Stop right there. Hands up," Samantha ordered.

As she began to move slowly towards him, Hutkins stopped and moved back down the stairs as he slowly raised his hands. Once on the main floor again, he said, "Look, I don't want any trouble. Tony and that girl of his are in a mess with some really bad people. They-"

Abruptly, he stepped back and dove out of sight.

Samantha quickly moved to follow him.

After the sound of her feet on the steps faded away, silence reigned. The darkness here was more complete, and she could barely see his form as it ducked behind a row of crates.

"Stop!" she said again. "I'll shoot if I have to."

She moved toward where she'd seen him last, stepping carefully and slowly, her ears alert for sound.

For what seemed a long time, she heard and saw nothing. She stopped abruptly when she heard his voice behind her.

"Drop your gun," he snarled.

She turned slowly.

Hutkins stood with a gun trained on her. "Nothing's gone right for me, but so help me God, you're not going to stop me from getting what I need to get. My life is on the line lady, and you're seriously screwing me up."

"You shot Tammy."

"Wouldn't have needed to if the bitch hadn't run. And if Tony had coughed up the cash he owes. He's got it somewhere – he's just not telling me where. Once I've taken care of you, he'll see how serious I am about wanting what he stole."

"They're not here," Samantha said truthfully, her gun still firmly in her hand, "and my partner is outside. He's called for backup. You're not going anywhere until you've explained to the police what you've been doing and for whom."

"I'm not explaining anything to anyone. By the time your partner gets to you, We'll be long gone."

"He's-" Samantha began. Before she could continue, the crash of a door being opened forcefully echoed through the building.

Hutkins heard it too. Knowing he was now in bigger trouble, he instinctively turned and ran for the back exit. Without thinking, Samantha raised her gun and fired.

Her bullet hit home. Hutkins dropped to the floor, screaming.

When it looked as though he was trying to rise to his feet, she shot him again.

End 6/7


	7. Chapter 7

Here it is, as promised, late, but I wanted to go over it one more time before posting. As always, thanks for the comments on the story - they've been appreciated!

Chapter 7

Goddard looked at Samantha. "We need to talk somewhere private." Turning his attention to Jack, he said, "I'll take Special Agent Malone's statement immediately afterward." Frowning slightly, he ordered, "Don't go far. This shouldn't take long."

Jack bit his tongue and nodded. The more cooperative they were, the better it would be for them.

He eyed Goddard.

_Maybe._

In a subtle show of both control and his willingness to co-operate, Jack said, "Not a problem. The interrogation rooms are available for your use, but if you like, use my office. It might be more comfortable."

Goddard's nod indicated his acknowledgment of the older agent's gesture. "Thank you; I'll use your office, then."

Jack felt pleasure he didn't allow himself to show. Being in his office rather than in one of the interrogation rooms would give Samantha the advantage of feeling on home territory. It wasn't huge, but it was something.

-xxx-

When Samantha left Jack's office forty minutes later, she looked pale but reasonably held together. Jack looked up when the door opened, but knew better than to say anything other than "Good night, Agent Spade," as she approached. She smiled faintly and returned the sentiment. She then took out her keys as she passed him, a subtle indication that she was on her way home if he wanted to talk later.

Inhaling deeply, he turned to Goddard, who stood in his doorway watching them carefully.

The agent then briskly ushered Jack into the office. With a wave of his hand, he indicated that Jack should have a seat across from the sofa where he himself had taken up position. He began his attack immediately.

"What's she hiding, Malone?"

Jack's eyebrows rose, but he waited until he had seated himself to respond.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Why would she be hiding anything?"

"She's dangerous. Emotional. Random in her responses." Goddard paused for effect, then added, "And obviously too quick with her trigger finger. Something happened in that warehouse she's not telling."

Jack was quick to counter: "I've seen no evidence of any of those things, and I have no idea what you're basing that last assumption on. She's dedicated, honest, and hard working. She's one of the best agents I've ever worked with. Agent Spade takes some cases personally, yes, but that often gives her an edge that makes her more successful than many less-involved agents."

Goddard paused to look at his notes. While he did so, Jack examined the younger man's body language carefully. The interview with Samantha had obviously not gone the way the investigative agent had expected; he definitely hadn't gotten the information he'd thought he would, and was feeling damned frustrated. Jack felt hope grow in his chest. Samantha might get through this with only a slap on the wrist, providing whatever it was she was hiding wasn't found out.

Unaware of Jack's scrutiny, the agent looked up. "I still have to speak with Steve Hutkins myself. I'm sure he'll have interesting details to add to what happened."

The comment stirred Jack from his thoughts. Nodding, he said, "I'm sure he will, though I'm not sure how reliable his version of events will be. The man is in a lot of trouble. He's wanted for assault and battery, is a suspect in a kidnapping, and is known to have been involved in a number of other criminal activities. I'd be wary that, so long as it doesn't get him in hotter water, he'd say whatever he thinks you want to hear."

Goddard waved a dismissive hand. "That's irrelevant. What's important to this investigation is how Agent Spade comported herself inside that building. She's already admitted that she shouldn't have been there alone in the first place. Going in without support was a dumb, rookie move, and a dangerous one. That alone is going to see her face some sort of reprimand. But my interest lies in what else she did. We've done a brief, preliminary interview with Hutkins. It appears he was surprised to hear that the two missing persons you were looking for were not found in the building. Agent Spade has professed complete confusion, claiming she saw no evidence of them when she explored the premises. Yet Hutkins, though he later said he could have been mistaken, was initially quite certain they were there at the time. Something's not adding up, Agent Malone. And that's before we even get to the shooting itself, which very likely was unnecessary."

Jack shrugged, savouring the fact that Hutkins was already trying to back away from what had actually happened in the building. The more Hutkins tried to change his story, the better it would be for Samantha. "I don't know," he said. "Hutkins could certainly have been mistaken. Agent Spade said little, other than that she was surprised by Hutkins as she was leaving the second floor, ordered him to stop, and he evaded her. While searching through the building for him, he surprised her from behind, held her at gun point, and threatened her life. When he heard us enter the building, he made an abrupt move which Agent Spade perhaps took to be threatening. She then fired at him."

"_Perhaps_ took to be threatening?"

"She did not describe what she thought at the time, and I would never presume to know what goes through any agent's mind when they are in danger, Special Agent Goddard."

The man sitting opposite of him wasn't convinced that was the whole story. "We'll see what the crime scene reveals - and what Hutkins has to say. Something's not right here, and I'm sure it will come to light as soon as all the facts are in," he said confidently.

Staring back at him without expression, Jack again made a dismissive movement with his shoulders. It would be in Hutkins' best interest to stay quiet about Tammy and Tony. Whether or not they had been there, the more he distanced himself from them the better off he'd be, and he'd know that. A growing suspicion that Tammy and Tony's presence - or lack thereof - was one of the things Samantha knew more about than she was willing to say, made him decide to change the direction of the conversation. "She's a good agent," he insisted, "and fired her weapon for acceptable reasons. She aimed to wound, not to kill, and it resulted in our having a suspect in custody. None of that is bad."

"But Hutkins wasn't a suspect you were responsible for capturing," Goddard reminded him.

"He was directly related to two missing person cases we were actively working on. Some might consider it fortunate happenstance that Agent Spade was able to apprehend him while performing her investigative duties," Jack countered.

Goddard sat back in his chair and regarded Jack carefully. After a moment of silence, he gave a resigned sigh, pushed himself forward, and rose. His manner clearly indicating he was aware he wouldn't get anything more from Jack, he said, "Thank you, Special Agent Malone. We'll be in touch, I'm sure. Make sure you get your report finished and filed before you leave tonight."

Jack rose and took the hand proffered to him. "Of course," he agreed courteously.

After the young agent left, Jack stared at the phone. Any call he made would be logged, so he knew better than to use it. Turning his attention to the clock on the wall, he sighed and moved to sit at his desk. Some things couldn't be avoided or ignored. Picking up a pen, he began to write his report.

An hour later, Jack registered his report and left the building. Suspecting that his movements might be watched, he drove home slowly. When he entered his apartment, he turned on the lights and then went to the windows and closed the blinds. Going to the kitchen, he took out two timers and set them, then placed them with lamps in his bedroom and in his living room.

He was out the back door of his building and hailing a cab just a few minutes later. Thirty minutes after that, at about the time that his living room light went off and his bedroom light went on, he was entering the back door of Samantha's apartment, using a key he had not used in a long, long while.

-xxx-

Samantha answered his light knock on the door almost immediately. Her face drawn and tired, she gestured for him to enter.

"I'm glad you came," she admitted. "I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I? Goddard was pretty insistent that I'm not telling him everything. I don't know why he's being so obsessive about this."

"He has his department's statistics to worry about," Jack said calmly.

She gestured towards the sofa and began to walk towards the kitchen. "I'm having a glass of juice. Can I get you anything?"

"Just water, if that's all right."

When she returned, she passed him a tall glass of water. Ice clinked softly in the glass.

"What should I do, Jack?" she asked, settling herself in the chair opposite him.

He sat quietly a moment, his attention focused on his clasped hands while he thought. Finally, he raised his eyes to meet hers. "I think you need to stick to whatever you told him. Steve Hutkins isn't going to be regarded as a reliable witness, and to be honest, I don't care if Tammy and Tony were in the building or not. You can hardly be blamed for them escaping if you were dealing with Hutkins at the time."

A look crossed Samantha's face that made his heart fall. Holding her gaze, the silence lengthened between them. Finally, he said, "I'm not going to ask, Sam. Unless forensics comes up with anything to the contrary, all I know is what you've said."

She nodded slowly, understanding.

"Why should they care about Tammy and Tony?" she asked. "This investigation is about my firing my weapon."

"It is, and it isn't. This latest shooting of yours did exactly what Goddard said it did: it threw up a red flag. They're looking at the shooting, but they're also looking at your performance as an agent overall. Whether or not you dealt with Tammy and Tony and how you handled whatever situation you discovered there might indicate the appropriateness of everything else you did in that warehouse."

She looked away. "I did nothing inappropriate," she said quietly. She couldn't look at him, couldn't put him in a position that would throw question on his loyalties and priorities; he'd been through that more than once, and it was the last thing he needed again. Unwilling to do anything that would put his career in jeopardy, she knew there was little choice but to continue to keep the truth to herself. She'd made her decision and she'd live with the consequences. Inhaling deeply, she at last returned her eyes to meet his.

He held her gaze steadily. As was true for most of their relationship, their unspoken communication was more comprehensive than their spoken. She knew what he wasn't saying, knew what his dark eyes were gifting her. Understanding he would support her no matter what, but knowing she would never put him in that position, she finally allowed a tension to ease from her. She finally smiled at him, and fondness gentled her voice when she said, "Thank you, Jack."

Though surprised by this change in her demeanour, he felt warmed by her words. "You're welcome. You know I'll always have your back."

Without thinking, her hand travelled to her stomach.

Jack saw the gesture. "With the baby, too. I-" He felt clumsy, and stopped, unsure of how much more to say.

Her heart caught in her throat and her look turned questioning. For one, brief moment she had forgotten… not knowing what to say, she rose and went to the window. She fiddled with the drawstrings of the blinds. They had been closed, of course, and she opened them only a very little. It felt reassuring, though, to stand there and see some of the city below.

An expectant silence filled the room, and she stood wondering what would be said or done next. They hadn't talked about this; hadn't dared approach it from any angle other than acknowledging that it was so. Now they were on the brink of something else, and she felt frightened. She couldn't explain this, couldn't look too much into any of it. She was pregnant. She didn't know what would be worked out with the father, and didn't know if she could go it alone. How would she manage work and a child and-

Jack made the first move. Feeling more than hearing his approach, she turned. The blinds dropped down, and she stood looking at him. Admitting part of her fears, she said, "I don't know how I'm going to do this, Jack. I don't." The baby's father was interested in taking part of their child's life, but she wasn't sure how she felt about that or about the opportunity she might have to actually make a little family with him and the baby. Part of her was hopeful, the other part - especially when she looked at the man now standing in front of her - knew that nothing could be the way she really wanted it to be.

It was all so fucked up.

She made a weak gesture with her hand. "I don't know, Jack," she said again. "It's so complicated."

"I know," he said gruffly. He wasn't sure how this had become about them, but maybe it was that everything, in some way, was. When he was with her, everything else faded and it was only her and the way he felt about her that mattered. Something deep inside him stirred. More than anything, he wanted to make her life easier, wanted to help carry her burdens, to protect her from harm. He needed to know that, no matter what, she was safe and happy.

But he'd screwed up royally when it came to doing that for his own wife and children.

Keeping his desires to himself, he thought of Samantha and what she needed. She felt uncertain about the baby's father, but he also guessed that building a life with him might be an attractive choice to her. If she wanted that and it made her happy, he couldn't stop it - she deserved to have the life she wanted. Mentally, however, he made a note to investigate the man, just to make sure that he was who he'd told Samantha he was. She'd been hurt too much before. The least he could do was ensure she wasn't hurt again.

Wordlessly, he took a step forward and held out his arms. Without thinking, she walked into them, exhaling softly as her head rested against his shoulder.

"It'll be all right," he murmured as he tightened his arms around her. "It'll be all right." Perhaps there would be no happily ever after for either of them, but he would be here. With her. For her. If and when she needed him.

After a moment, she lifted her hands to rest between them on his chest, then reluctantly moved herself out of his embrace. It would be too easy to lean harder, too easy to allow the warmth of his embrace to lull her into a false sense of security. She had to do this alone. Had to face the consequences of her actions and live her life.

"Jack-"

He spoke before she could say more. "I'm sorry," he said. "I've complicated your life before; I don't want to do that again."

She looked at him with dark, troubled eyes. She loved him, but there was a new life inside her to consider and the father of that life wanted to share in it. Melancholy tinged the smile she gave him. There would be no happily ever after here, no castle, and no magical ending.

"I know, Jack. Thank you."

Their eyes met and held. Sensing her resolve, and wanting to make sure he didn't say something they'd both regret, Jack motioned towards the door. "I should be going," he said, "but I want you to know I'm here. Always."

She nodded. "Thank you," she repeated. She clasped her hands tightly, fighting the urge to walk towards him. She imagined herself throwing herself into his arms, imagined him holding her, kissing her, imagined waking up with his arms around her, and everything being all right….

And straightened abruptly. It wouldn't be all right. Not like that. She had to do this. Had to make her decisions carefully and logically and independently.

At the door he turned. Wanting one last opportunity to reassure her, he turned to something safe and said, "I don't think there's going to be much of a problem with the investigation. Goddard is frustrated as hell the facts aren't lining up the way he wants them to, and that's fine with me. Some things we'll just never know, and I can live with that. So can the department. Don't worry, Sam. You'll be okay. With this and with the baby."

He opened the door to let himself out. It seemed wrong to be leaving. Hesitating, he said, "I hope that Tammy and Tony make a go of it. They don't have much of a chance, but you never know. It'd be nice to think they could somehow escape their past and make a go of it. Everyone deserves a second chance."

The look in his eyes took her breath away and she wondered if her gaze held the same depth of feeling. Fighting back her sense of loneliness and loss, she nodded.

Lifting a hand in farewell, he said, "See you in the morning."

"See you in the morning," she echoed faintly. She closed her eyes when he turned to leave.

When she opened them, he was gone.

End  
No Fairy Tale This

Author's note: The title should have foreshadowed that there's be no happily ever after. I've tried to be a 'real' as possible here, allowing the case to bring out feelings in both of them, and then having them resolve things as best they can. I'm not certain what will happen to these characters in canon, but it's awfully good to think that at some point, somehow, they _will _manage their happily ever after! Hope you enjoyed the story, and thanks for reading!


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